


Shared Warmth

by elestaus



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Alcohol, M/M, Promo Code "TwoHands", Size Kink, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 07:18:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14373702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elestaus/pseuds/elestaus
Summary: Throndir gets those Red Jack smooches. (Rewrite of an older fic.)





	Shared Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> When I wrote the first version of this fic Winter in Hieron was still ongoing and we hadn’t gotten any firm answers about the visions in Hella’s sword. Unsurprisingly, the interpretation I ran with at the time didn’t fit with what we later learned. Doing a rewrite gave me a chance to address those inconsistencies, along with some other things, so now here we are, almost a year later.

The chittering of moths grew louder as Throndir neared the densest part of the forest. It was brighter now that the moon had risen, but even with the increased visibility he was grateful for Kodiak’s aid in retracing his steps through the snow.

Throndir had assumed that if anyone was well-suited to living in a world without a sun it would be the mothkin, and at first they had taken to the night like it was any other. Now some moths fluttered listlessly from tree to tree, seemingly incapable of rest, while others sat motionless in the branches with only the twiddling of their antennae to show that they were alive.

It had been hard enough for people to adjust to the sudden onset of winter; at his most pessimistic, Throndir wondered if the sun’s disappearance spelled the end for them all.

Skirting the rice fields brought him and Kodiak to the part of Old Man’s Chin that most resembled a traditional village, where mothkin, switchlings, and others had worked together to build a functioning community from nothing. Red, blue, and green-skinned children dressed in rags chased each other through the waist-deep snow as they passed. All were dark-haired and each had the same perfunctory bowl cut interrupted by a stubby pair of horns protruding from their forehead. They didn’t bear much resemblance to the humans, halflings, orcs, or goblins Throndir had encountered, and they certainly weren’t elves.

Kodiak wuffed and butted gently at one when a particularly reckless child came close to colliding with him. Even a light blow from a dog of Kodiak’s size was enough to send his target sprawling, but by the time Throndir stopped to check on him the dazed youngster had already sprung back up with a laugh and was in the process of clambering onto Kodiak’s back. The other children crowded around them as they carried on their way, Kodiak seeming content to pad along as usual despite his young passenger’s repeated attempts to spur him on to greater speeds. It wasn’t long before the child grew tired of riding, however, and jumped down to go chasing after his fellows, who had by then found something new to distract them.

As the two of them neared Red Jack’s house Throndir could make out the glow of a long-stemmed pipe in the shadows of the covered porch outside.

“Ho there, Ranger!” Red Jack boomed on seeing him. Ace nickered at their approach and Kodiak bounded forward, tail wagging, as the massive draft horse ambled out to meet them.

“I thought your bandages might need changing,” Throndir offered.

Like his children, Red Jack seemed hardly to notice the cold. All he wore was a loose cotton robe, belted at the waist, the front of which gaped to expose a large amount of muscular, red chest cleavage. Throndir caught his eyes from drifting downward and jerked them back up, realizing a second later that over-correcting was probably the worst sort of giveaway.

If he noticed, Red Jack didn’t say anything. Instead he nodded and used his pipe to indicate a space on the bench beside him. “Sit. Tell me of our foes.”

Throndir sat, and Red Jack shrugged the top half of the robe off in order to give him the access he needed, a task made easier by the fact that he was still missing most of an arm. It was a relief to see the strips of linen Adaire had wound around his waist in the aftermath of the Ordennan attack were still in place; there was a time when Throndir might’ve expressed doubts about their self-proclaimed mapmaker’s doctoring skills, but in this case he had to admit she knew what she was doing.

Red Jack smoked and listened in silence while Throndir cleaned the wound in his side, wrapped it in moth silk, and recounted the events of the night before to the best of his ability.

“You know, I believe you are the first person Ace has consented to carry on his back,” Red Jack observed once he finished. “Apart from me, that is.”

Throndir followed his gaze to where Kodiak and Ace were playing in the woods nearby. One would bound in front of the other, turn and run for a short distance, then change directions and chase the chaser in turn. When Kodiak rolled in the snow Ace followed suit, sinking onto his knees and turning over on his back in obvious mimicry, and when Ace tossed his head Kodiak did the same.

“Ace pulled me from a mountain,” Red Jack informed him in the same sort of voice he used when he about to launch into one of his tall tales. “I’d wandered far from home, not for the first time, and I knew there’d be a reckoning when I returned. My father liked to keep his children close, you see.”

“Is that why you let the kids here run around on their own?” Throndir asked. “That reminds me, actually. Where’s their–”

Red Jack held up a hand to stop him. “Hold on, hold on. One story at a time. As I said, I was no stranger to disobeying my father. Just a little further, I remember telling myself. Just to that tree, then the one after that. Up to the top of that ridge and down the slope on the other side. Then I was sure I’d turn back.”

Throndir watched him blow a smoke ring. “Needless to say, I took a tumble,” Red Jack said when he resumed, “and that was how Ace found me, buried under rocks and ice a thousand leagues from where I started. Afterwards nothing could persuade him to leave me, and so we decided to see the world together. But that was a long time ago.”

“It’s funny,” Throndir mused, “that doesn’t sound too different from how I met Kodiak. Only I didn’t have a choice when it came to leaving home.”

Neither of them spoke for a time after that. Red Jack gave no indication that he expected Throndir to continue, or that he would push for more if he didn’t. The smoke from Red Jack’s pipe lingered in the frozen air in front of them until finally he sighed and tapped its contents out over the snow.

“They say you can’t choose your family,” he said, clasping Throndir’s shoulder. “Well, they say a lot of foolish things, but when it comes to nonsense passing for wisdom, that one might be the worst.”

Throndir put his hand over Red Jack’s. There was something familiar in the gesture, even if he couldn’t say what it was.

“I need to tend to some things in the house,” Red Jack said as he pulled away.

“Do you need any help? With your wound and everything…” Throndir tried, knowing it wouldn’t work.

“No, no. I’ll be fine,” Red Jack said, cutting him off. “I just need to settle some things. It’s nothing important.”

Throndir stayed where he was after Red Jack had left. Snow was rare in the south of Hieron, that much he knew. Throndir had never travelled far enough to have a first-hand account of the region, but Kindrali had, long ago.

The bridge leading out of Quince Parish was the only place in the city where it ever got cold enough for snow to fall, and it was there that Red Jack and Kindrali had said their last goodbyes. It wasn’t until Kindrali closed the gap between them that Throndir remembered just how big the ogre was; even on horseback, Red Jack had to reach up to put a hand on his shoulder. Neither of them spoke, but Kindrali placed his hand over Red Jack’s, and Throndir knew, as Kindrali did then, that Red Jack was prepared to leave on a journey he did not expect to return from.

Throndir came out of his reverie to find Kodiak panting in front of him. It wasn't speech, exactly, but he never had a problem understanding Kodiak. It seemed that Ace was worried. Throndir looked up to see the horse standing a short ways off. According to Kodiak, he recalled the respect Throndir had shown him before and wished to remind him of the honor he had been paid in return. Now he had a favor to ask.

With a final pat for Kodiak, Throndir got up to follow Red Jack inside. The interior of the house was unlike any dwelling he’d been in up till now. There were sliding screens in place of doors, reed mats on the floor, and hardly any candles. Throndir supposed that made sense when you considered the danger an open flame might pose to a village full of moths, though the lack of a fire also meant that it was nearly as cold inside as it was out in the woods.

He found Red Jack in the house’s only bedroom. His back was to the door, but Throndir could see that he’d taken something out of a drawer and was in the middle of examining it when he heard the wooden screen slide back.

“I thought you understood that I wanted to be alone,” he said, without turning.

“Ace was worried about you,” Throndir said, hanging back so as not to intrude any more than he already had.

That got an unexpected chuckle in response. “There’s no hiding things from Ace. I should have known he’d drag you into this.”

Red Jack returned the object he’d been holding to its drawer. From the brief glimpse Throndir had before it disappeared, it appeared to be a tooth or tusk of some kind, large enough to fit comfortably in the palm of Red Jack’s hand and covered with an intricate series of carvings. At the sight of it, Throndir felt the familiar sensation at the back of his mind that meant the object held some personal significance to Kindrali, but he resisted the impulse to probe for more. Some secrets weren’t his to uncover.

“When are you leaving?” he asked instead.

“Soon,” Red Jack answered. “After the coming battle, if I survive.”

Admitting it seemed to take the energy out of him. Red Jack’s shoulders sagged and he turned to face Throndir for the first time since hearing him enter. His expression was resigned.

“There was a time when I thought this place might be a home. Somewhere I could put down roots. Now I wonder if such a place exists.”

Throndir removed his snow-covered pack and laid it by the door. He was half afraid he’d read the mood wrong and that Red Jack would tell him to leave, but a moment later Red Jack laid that fear to rest by finding a couple of wooden cups and bringing them to a low table in the middle of the room.

“Sit,” he said, settling himself cross-legged on the floor, and Throndir did as he was told.

Once the two of them were seated, Red Jack used his teeth to pull the stopper from one end of a hollow gourd and tipped a generous amount of an unfamiliar cloudy liquor into both of their cups. Throndir had assumed they’d talk of homes and families, but when Red Jack next spoke it was on another matter altogether.

“I thought I recognized you,” he said, “when we met on the road to the north, but it wasn’t until you came here with Frond that I knew for sure. Word spreads fast.”

“You mean with the whole Ranger thing?” Throndir asked. He wasn’t sure where the title had come from, but he’d secretly been thrilled to learn of his growing reputation. Then again, maybe it meant something different to the people of Old Man's Chin.

Red Jack finished his drink in one and motioned for Throndir to do the same.

“Drink. Take your comfort where you can.”

Throndir obeyed, eyes watering at the burning sensation in the back of his throat, and nodded when Red Jack looked to him for approval before refilling his cup. He was no lightweight; one of his proudest moments to date had been when managed to outdrink Hella at a bar in Velas shortly after they met, a feat that astonished the others and won him her grudging respect. At the time he’d thumped his chest and credited it to the strength of his goblin blood, but he wasn’t about to try and match pace with Red Jack.

“I knew the Ranger before you,” Red Jack explained, and paused to knock his second drink back in a gulp before continuing. “She was a good woman, and strong in her convictions. Though she didn’t take kindly to my habit of waylaying merchant carts.”

“I didn’t realize I was inheriting a title,” Throndir said, lowering his cup down after another, more measured sip.

He’d been too engrossed in his work bandaging Red Jack’s side to pay much attention to anything else when they were on the porch, but now that the robe had started to slip from Red Jack’s shoulders again, Throndir couldn’t help stealing a glance. He’d seen plenty of people with pierced earlobes in Velas, so he should have been used to the sight by now, but there was something particularly eye-catching about the silver barbells in Red Jack’s nipples and the way they made them stand out from his chest.

“It’s the way things are in Hieron," Red Jack explained while leaning forward to refill Throndir’s cup. "There’s always been a Ranger, and only one, just as there is only one Red Jack, and only one Ace.”

“What happened to the one before me?” Throndir asked, finishing what was either his second or third drink and privately resolving to stop Red Jack if he tried to pour him another.

“She went the way all of us go, should we live long enough,” Red Jack said. “She vanished. Into legend.”

It took Throndir a second in his fuzzy-headed state to realize that Red Jack was about to start pouring again, and by then it was too late to protest. This time when he tipped the gourd over Throndir’s cup, however, only a trickle of cloudy liquid emerged. Red Jack grunted and seemed about to go in search of another, but had to sink back down with a pained sound halfway through the act of getting to his feet.

“Hey! Hey, take it easy!” Throndir yelped as he leapt up to assist.

His initial fear was that Red Jack’s wound must have reopened, but a closer examination of his bandaged side showed no sign of blood seeping through. There was a bed in the corner of the room – admittedly one that looked more like a pile of quilts on the floor than any he’d had seen before – and at Throndir’s urging Red Jack eventually consented to lay down.

“You probably shouldn’t move for a while,” Throndir added once he was situated.

“It’s nothing,” Red Jack grumbled, already struggling to prop himself up in bed on his one usable arm. He was still wearing his robe, and Throndir wondered if he should offer to help him off with it, but all it took was imagining how that might sound for him to dismiss the idea.

“What I said, about finding comfort where you can…” Red Jack started, and trailed off. Several seconds went by before he seemed to find the words he was looking for. “Will you stay here? Tonight?”

Throndir gaped at him. “You mean–”

“Yes,” Red Jack answered before Throndir could finish. Heavy-lidded eyes fixed him with an equally direct stare in return.

Throndir could feel a blush creeping out to the ends of his ears, something he hoped the candlelight would be dim enough to hide. There was a challenging quality to Red Jack’s expression that made him want to look away, but also, Throndir suspected, a coldness that was Red Jack’s way of masking a moment of vulnerability. He wished he hadn’t had so much to drink; maybe if he still had all his wits about him he would’ve been equal to the situation.

“Yes! I mean, if you’re sure. If it’s really alright,” Throndir blurted out at last, hoping he didn’t sound too eager. Now that he’d found his voice it was difficult to stop. “I’ve, uh. I mean. I’ve never–”

Red Jack motioned him forward with his stump of an arm but stopped him after his first step towards the bed.

“Wait,” he said. “First, remove… all that.”

"Oh, right." Throndir struggled out of his coat and hurried to rid himself of the layers of protective gear he wore underneath. It was the first time he could remember wishing there were fewer straps and buckles involved.

A slowly broadening grin crept over Red Jack’s face as he watched him strip. Throndir had to sit down to remove his boots after nearly falling while attempting to pull them off standing up, by which point his blush had intensified to where it felt bright enough to light up the room.

Eventually, however, only one barrier between him and the rest of the world remained. Men in Auniq typically wore single-piece neck-to-ankle underwear with a row of buttons down the front – useful for staying warm in the Mark of the Erasure, but not especially flattering. Throndir hesitated before undoing the topmost button. He wasn’t used to sleeping fully naked, but if he understood Red Jack’s intentions anything that covered that much of his body would only get in the way. Better to strip down quickly and cover himself in blankets before Red Jack’s grin got any wider.

It was cold enough in the house that Throndir was glad to crawl in beside him, despite his embarrassment. Two people of regular size would have found it hard to sleep side by side in Red Jack’s bed without verging on intimate territory; as it was Throndir was practically laying on top of him. Red Jack’s injury made it hard to find a comfortable alternative, but after some awkward jostling Throndir settled into the crook of his arm and Red Jack was able to pull a heavy quilt over both of them.

Nothing had prepared Throndir for the amount of heat Red Jack gave off. It was still cold on the top of his shoulders, where the quilt didn’t reach, but the chill he’d felt in brief period after shedding his cold-weather gear and before climbing into bed soon eased. After a minute his lower body had even started to sweat.

Throndir swallowed. “So, uh. While we’re here. Did you want you do anything?”

That got a laugh out of Red Jack. He couldn’t do much more than prop himself up in bed with his one usable arm, but that gave him the range of motion he needed to lean in and kiss the top of Throndir’s head.

“If there’s something you want, you’re free to take it.”

Throndir didn’t hesitate when it came to meeting Red Jack’s lips with his own. It wasn’t his first kiss, but it might as well have been. No previous kiss had made his heart race to this extent. Red Jack’s approach was surprisingly gentle, almost as if he was afraid of scaring him off, while for his part it was all Throndir could do to keep from shoving his tongue against Red Jack’s fangs.

By the time they separated both of them were out of breath. Sitting up had caused the quilt on Red Jack’s side of the bed to slip, exposing more of his upper body. Red Jack’s chest, in particular, was broader and more defined than any Throndir had seen before, though part of that was probably an issue of perception caused by the lack of hair. He knew how hairy his own chest must seem in comparison, how hairy every part of him was next to Red Jack. He was close enough now for a better view of Red Jack’s piercings as well – a glint of metal on either side of the two fat, red cherries jutting out from his pecs.

The intensity of his focus wasn’t lost on Red Jack, who flexed in response. One of Throndir’s hands found its way to Red Jack’s chest, moving practically on its own.

“Enjoying yourself?” Red Jack asked when Throndir stopped to squeeze one of his pecs.

“Yeah,” Throndir answered in a small voice. He didn’t need to look at Red Jack’s face to know that he was smirking. At that point all he wanted was to see how Red Jack’s piercings would feel if he took them between his teeth, but somehow that seemed as if it would be taking things too far, even if he was sure Red Jack would have responded positively.

Instead his hand moved lower. Red Jack shrugged the blankets off further so he could see what he was doing, exposing them both, though Throndir was too warm now to care about the loss of the quilt.

“Oh, god,” Throndir said out loud.

Red Jack’s robe was fully open now. In a rush, Throndir’s mind returned to the chaos on the northern road when Red Jack first came charging out of woods on Ace. The way the two of them coordinated as one had him briefly convinced that they must be a singular entity, some previously unknown fusion of man and beast. Now he was forced to revisit the possibility that Red Jack might be part horse after all.

His cock was the regular shape as far as he could tell, but nearly a foot in length and so big around that he’d need two hands to fully encompass his girth. Throndir caught himself shifting his legs at the sight. It wasn’t even fully hard. He thought he recognized the twitch and gradual thickening that came as a result of Red Jack tensing his internal muscles, possibly as a way of taunting him. A glance up confirmed it. There was the smirk he’d expected to find. Yellow eyes gleamed at him behind dark lashes and Red Jack’s smile soon widened to the point where his fangs were visible again, which Throndir took as his sign to continue.

Red Jack’s skin was hot to the touch. As predicted, it took both hands for Throndir to hold it properly. Throndir’s handling of him was tentative at first, sticking to slow, gentle rubbing until Red Jack reached what seemed to be his full hardness. There was no mistaking the way his breathing grew less controlled over time or the way his hips moved in time with each stroke.

Throndir squirmed, aware of a growing slickness between his thighs. He wished he could slip a hand down to rub at himself, but couldn’t quite muster the courage to get himself off with Red Jack watching his every move. Instead, he bit his lip and redoubled his focus on what was in front of him. There was a wet sheen around the head of Red Jack’s cock, slippery under his fingers, and it wasn’t long before his large, low-hanging balls began to rise, pulling up tighter against Red Jack’s body in readiness for what was to come.

For the first time Throndir paused to wonder where this was leading. The thought of attempting to take Red Jack’s entire length was enough to make him freeze in place. There was no way he’d be able to fit something that big inside of him.

“I’ve never–” he started, and stopped to swallow before continuing. “I mean, I don’t know if I can–”

Red Jack tensed at the interruption, clearly having to fight the urge to keep thrusting into Throndir’s hands, but after teetering on the edge for a moment he sank back down with a sigh.

“Better not,” he grumbled. “Unless you’ve got a sheath on hand.”

“Right, of course,” Throndir said, chagrined. The thought hadn’t even occurred to him.

Red Jack leaned out of bed to fumble for the hollow gourd, which he upended over his open mouth and held in place until the last drops of alcohol had run dry. Throndir’s head was still buzzing from the amount he’d drunk before. The blankets covering him fell away completely as he let Red Jack guide him into a new position straddling his lap, leaving him feeling more exposed than ever, but the presence of Red Jack’s erection between his legs made it hard to focus on anything else.

“Pretty…” Red Jack ran a hand down Throndir’s side, following the curves of his torso and drawing a shudder of pleasure from him when he let his claws brush his skin.

Throndir obliged when Red Jack raised his chin to beckon him closer. Closing the gap meant supporting himself on his hands and knees over Red Jack, ever mindful of his injured side. When they kissed, the tongue that pushed its way into his mouth was longer and thicker than any elf or human’s; Throndir had to stifle a moan when he felt it probing at the back of his throat. With every shift in position Red Jack’s pre-slicked cock pressed against his belly. Red Jack’s roaming hand, meanwhile, had made its way to his ass, where by taking firm grip and squeezing he could help to guide Throndir’s motions.

“Move like you’re riding. Up and down,” Red Jack said when they separated for air. “Gently though.”

Throndir was too flushed and out of breath to do more than nod in response. It took him several tries to find the rhythm, but once he did he immediately saw what Red Jack meant. Mimicking the familiar hip motions of someone riding a horse let him position himself such that Red Jack’s cock would slide between his legs, parting his folds and pushing past his own stiff, straining cock with every thrust.

By the fourth or fifth stroke the trembling in his thighs had grown to the point where it was hard to hold himself up. Red Jack’s chest heaved under him with the effort of keeping still, his eyes wide and hungry at the sight of Throndir’s naked body. Every time their cocks touched Throndir bit back a whine of pleasure until the struggle grew too much to bear and he couldn’t help crying out. Red Jack pulled him close and kissed his neck through the throes of his orgasm, biting and sucking on the skin by his throat while Throndir lay practically collapsed on top of him.

Eventually his energy returned, however, and with it the belated realization that Red Jack still hadn’t come.

“Shit, sorry for stopping, uh, we can–” Throndir said, sitting up and fumbling for words in a daze.

“No, no, better not,” Red Jack interrupted with a pained grimace. “My side’s starting to hurt and I wouldn’t want to make a mess of the bed.” He hefted his balls at that, as if to illustrate the point, and managed a grin. His breathing was ragged and his erection hadn’t subsided, but Throndir could see the effort he was making to control himself.

“I could take you in my mouth,” Throndir suggested. He was amazed at how easily the proposal came, considering the way it sounded. A day ago the thought alone would have been enough to make him blush.

Red Jack laughed, briefly, before breaking off with a wince. “Another time,” he promised. “We should rest while we can.”

It was a long time before Red Jack’s breathing returned to its former steadiness, but he got there in the end, a process that began with drying the dampness around his crotch using Throndir’s discarded shirt. Lying with the quilt thrown back and the play of cool air on his overheated skin, Throndir was more relaxed than he could ever remember being.

A low wuff cut in on his recovery, followed by the sound of Kodiak sniffing at a gap in the room’s sliding screen. Throndir tried to push himself up, but Red Jack motioned for him to remain where he was. A minute later they both heard Kodiak pad away, satisfied.

“Stay, please,” Red Jack said, and Throndir did.

The candles burned low over the course of that night. The sun didn’t rise in the morning, as Throndir hoped it might, but for once he was happy to lose track of time. The rest of the world could wait.

**Author's Note:**

> huge thanks to aubades and kismetnemesis for betaing
> 
> find me on twitter at @elestaus where i mostly tweet about various fatt headcanons


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